Page 81 of The One Who Never Left: Colter

“It makes me want it more,” he admitted, shocking both his brother and himself.

Eli grinned. “And by it, you mean…?”

“Whatever it costs,” Colter said quietly. “I’m talking about that.”

To Colter, whatever it costs wasn’t about comfort or convenience. It was about showing up when it mattered, even when it was hard. It was about choosing responsibility over ease, permanence over escape. About stepping into a life that came with history, expectations, and a little girl who deserved someone who stayed. If that was the price, he was already calculating how to pay it.

“Jesus,” his brother muttered. “You don’t do anything half-assed, do you?”

“Never learned how.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Colter didn’t miss the way Eli’s mouth tipped into something wry, almost fond. He felt it too—that familiar pull backward to a childhood where effort wasn’t optional and quitting wasn’t a word that got much airtime. Their old man had taught them early on that half in was just another way of saying unreliable. You showed up. You finished. You owned the outcome, good or bad.

Being a Callahan meant you didn’t test the water with your toes. You jumped headfirst.

Full throttle.

Colter scrubbed a hand over his jaw and stared out at nothing in particular. “So what the hell do I do?”

Eli didn’t answer right away. He pushed back on his heels, tipping his chair onto two legs, eyes tracking the ceiling like the advice might be written up there somewhere.

“You go for what you want,” he said finally. “Life’s too damn short not to.”

“That sounds suspiciously simple.”

“It is. And it isn’t.” Eli dropped the chair back down with a soft thud. “You go for it—but you do it with your eyes open. You don’t hand your heart over like it’s a party favor. You protect it. You pay attention to the places it might break.”

Colter’s mouth twitched. “You sound like you’ve had some practice.”

Eli’s expression shuttered, the humor draining out of him like someone had pulled a plug. “Yeah,” he said quietly.

"Jo?" Colter asked.

The quiet that followed was answer enough. Eli looked out at the dark pasture for a long moment, jaw working like he was deciding how much to say.

"Some things don't have a clean ending," he said finally. "That's all."

Colter didn't push. He just nodded once, slow and solid, the way their father used to when words weren't enough.

"Go for what you want," Eli said, quieter now. "Love like hell. And do a better job of it than I did."

CHAPTER 30

Therapy in Session

SATURDAY, 5:30 PM

Boone: Comedy night at The Tipsy Cow tonight. You coming, Colt?

Colter: Gonna pass

Boone: Girls are going. Whole group

Colter: …

Eli: Don’t pretend you’re thinking about going